Dark Embrace (21 page)

“Is this real?” she whispered.

“Nay,” he said, uncertain if he lied. He put his arm around her and faced his father. “It's me ye want. Let her awaken and go.”

Moray smiled—and Aidan saw Ian.

He went still. This was not reality. “Ian?”

His son looked the same—small and dark of hair, with vivid blue eyes. The boy smiled in relief. “Papa.”

If Ian was a ghost, he would vanish as he always did. But his son simply stood there.

This was cruel treachery. Aidan reached out and saw his hand trembling.

Moray stepped back, taking Ian with him, out of his reach. “Give me your soul—and I will give you your son.”

Aidan felt Brianna choke on despair.

Ian looked desperately at him. “Papa? Please?”

He could hear his son. Was this a different kind of dream? Was it an enchantment? Or was it real?

“Your soul,” Moray said softly.

Aidan tensed. He knew his father would have him commit an atrocious crime, and a terrible inkling began.

“Yes,” Moray said, lurking. “That is what I want.”

Aidan did not move.

Moray wanted him to take Brianna to bed now—and to take pleasure in her death.

“Aidan?” Brianna whispered, looking up uncertainly at him.

“She can't die in a dream, my boy,” Moray said. “Go, take her now.”

Aidan had his arm around her. She had died in her dream last night, but somehow had awoken alive anyway. His every instinct told him now that she would die in this dream—and she would never awaken from it.

“Do you want your son?”

“Aidan, what does he want?” Brianna cried.

Aidan breathed hard. He ignored her. “'Tis a lie, a trick.”

“Give me your soul and I will give you your son,” Moray repeated.

Aidan stood there, frozen, aware of Ian staring desperately at him and of Brianna pressed to his side.

Ian was dead. Wasn't he?

He could not destroy Brianna. Could he?

Wouldn't he do anything to get his son back?

“Don't you want to know what your son has been trying to tell you for sixty-six years?” Moray inquired.

“You are disgusting,” Brianna shouted. “And you will be vanquished. No demon lives forever!”

Moray laughed at her.

Aidan, shaking and ill, looked at him. There was nothing he wanted more than to know what Ian had been trying to say to him—unless it was to bring his son back from the dead. And as he stared, Ian suddenly vanished.

“Bring him back,” Aidan shouted in helpless rage. “Ian!”

But there was no answer. Where Ian had just been standing, the air shimmered and sighed.

“Destroy her,” Moray ordered. “Destroy her and the boy will return.”

Brianna gasped and became rigid in his embrace.

He didn't dare look at her now, but his grasp on her tightened. It was his duty to Ian to do whatever he had to bring him back.

He looked at Brianna and he heard her thoughts. Her faith hadn't wavered. She didn't believe he would ever hurt her, not even to spare his son's death.

She was fighting tooth and nail for his soul, and she had been doing so since the day he'd abducted her from her time.

Her white light was a blessing—and the only light in his life.

He could not do it.

His mind was made up. He turned to leave the dream, and he hit that invisible wall again. Furious, he pushed against it, again and again, to no avail.

“No one will ever leave this dream unless I allow it,” Moray said in quiet fury.

Aidan's rage knew no bounds and it became savage. He let Brianna go.

“Aidan?” she whispered.

He didn't really hear her. Every hackle raised, he faced Moray and snarled.

Moray's eyes widened in alarm.

Brianna screamed.

T
HE
W
OLF WAS ENRAGED
,
Brie thought. But Aidan didn't think he had enough power to defeat his father. The Wolf had extraordinary strength, but it was an unthinking beast. She didn't believe it a match for Moray. “Aidan,
don't.
”

But it was too late. The Wolf roared and leapt at Moray. As the beast struck the demon, the layers of sleep crushing her down crumbled. Brie soared upward, opened her eyes and sat up in bed. There was no moment of sudden comprehension, when a person realizes that he has been dreaming. Brie knew she had been in a nightmare just as she now knew she was awake. But that dream had been strange, far different from all others; the dream world was becoming too powerful, too tangible…too real.

Aidan stood by the bed, immobilized. His legs were braced, his body was rigid and he was breathing hard. His eyes were glazed.

He remained in the dream, she thought. She could only imagine what was happening in the dream world—and she had died in a dream last night. She seized his arms. “Wake up!” she screamed at him, jumping to her feet.

He started, glancing into her eyes, his gaze becoming lucid. Relief covered his features.

Brie collapsed back onto the bed, shaking. “Your father trapped us in that dream. I think he was controlling it from start to finish,” she cried.

He sat down beside her, clasping her shoulders. “He's gone. He fled the Wolf.”

Brie became terribly aware of his large hands on her shoulders and his huge body, inches from hers. She had gone to bed in her T-shirt and sweatshirt, and her legs were bare. She wanted to collapse in his arms, but instead she met his concerned and searching gaze.

“Are ye hurt?”

“You know I wasn't hurt, but I'll admit to being terrified. God, he is toying with us!” All she could think of was what Moray had wanted, and how he had tried to bend Aidan to his will.

Aware of her thoughts, Aidan started to pull away from her.

Brie seized his face in her hands, thinking of his son. “Evil is cruel,” she said slowly. “Evil is heartless, without conscience. Still…I'm appalled. Oh, Aidan!” She slipped her arms around him and tried to lay her cheek on his chest.

He jumped to his feet. “Ian is dead,” he said, but his tone was uncertain.

“Ian is a ghost,” she said as carefully. “And we were dreaming of him.”

His gaze flew to hers. “Yer nay certain.”

She trembled. “Aidan, he's been dead for sixty-six years. If he were alive, he'd be a grown man.”

Aidan cried out.

She leapt to her feet and put her arms around him, but he instantly twisted away.

“Ye'll be safe at Iona. We go by horseback an' galley in the morning,” he said tersely. His glance slid down her legs.

He was blocking his emotions for her, but she knew he was filled with pain and anguish. “This is exactly what he wants—to instill fear in us and to torment you even more than he has already,” Brie cried. “These demons are worse than terrorists! We can't let them frighten us and we can't let them torment us!”

“An' how should I be, then?” he shouted. “Should I pretend I didn't just see an' hear my dead son?”

“It was a dream,” Brie cried.

“Was it?” he demanded. “Because it was the most realistic dream I have had. We were both trapped there by some huge power until the Wolf freed us.”

She moved to touch his arm but he jerked away. “I am on your side,” she tried. “I can't stand what is happening, either.”

He breathed hard. “He's afraid of the Wolf. His power worked on the man, but mayhap the Wolf can escape his spells.”

Brie tensed. She didn't want to rely on that beast, not ever. They needed more power—and a few spells of their own. “I'm afraid to ask how much power Moray has.”

Their gazes locked. “The next time ye die in a dream, ye won't awaken, ever. I have no doubt of that.”

Brie trembled. “I think you may be right.”

He suddenly covered his face with his hands, and Brie knew he was thinking about the fact that he had just seen and heard his son. She was desperate to comfort him and she went to him. When he remained unmoving, she laid her hand on his back.

He looked at her, his eyes ablaze. “I could invite him back fer another dream, an' even ask him to bring my son with him. I'd see Ian again.”

“Haven't you dreamed of Ian before?”

“I never dream of him. There's only the haunting,” he said.

That was as cruel as the rest of his life. She caressed his big shoulder.

He stared down at her. “Ye need to get dressed and stop touchin' me.”

She dropped her hand. “I want to comfort you.”

His gaze turned cold. “I won't make love to ye,” he warned.

Unease began. She turned, found her jeans and slid them on. As she snapped them, she looked up. He was watching her as closely as a hawk. “I really wish I could read your mind. What is it?”

“He told me Ian lives.”

Alarm began. “Aidan, it's a lie, a ploy!”

He wet his lips, his stare hard. “Ye ken what he wants now?”

“Yes. He wants you to be pure evil, a demon with no heart, no soul. A demon capable of mayhem, torture, cruelty and murder.”

“He wants me to bed ye an' destroy ye, an' enjoy it.”

Brie knew Aidan would never be so demonic, but his gaze was hard now.

“If I take pleasure in yer death, he'll give me my son back.”

“Ian is dead!” Brie cried.

“Is he?” Aidan roared. “Is he dead or is he alive?”

She felt her insides vanish. She backed up.

He grasped his head as if to wrench it from his neck and let the block on his emotions fall away.

Brie screamed as his confusion, his anguish and rage hit her, blow after blow. She staggered backward as his torment pummeled her, as brutal and random as a hailstorm. As she went to her knees, he just stood there, watching her, his every emotion out of all control, and she became aware of something else woven into the pain.

The knowledge that Ian might be given back to him, if he did as Moray asked.

On her knees, she looked up at him, a hammer banging inside her head.

“Ye'll be safe from us both on Iona.” His eyes changed, becoming unwavering and feral.

She felt the beast before she saw it. Anger blazed, consuming every other emotion except for the lust.

There was so much lust.

Carnal lust, bloodlust and the lust for power were all roiling into one huge, explosive force.

Brie crouched, afraid to move. “Don't,” she whispered. The man standing before her looked like Aidan, but it wasn't. He was the Wolf and he was beyond rage now. He was beyond all reason.

He glared furiously at her and slammed from the tent, into the night.

 

B
RIE WALKED SLOWLY OUTSIDE AND
paused, but saw no sign of Aidan. She was afraid he had shifted already. She prayed he wasn't hunting Moray.

What were they going to do? Moray had all kinds of power. He had seemed in complete control until Aidan had shifted into the Wolf. Was it even remotely possible that Moray could not triumph over the beast?

Will approached, looking sleepy, and Brie realized it would soon be dawn. He went to the fire, now in embers, and began adding kindling. Brie looked away, dreading the new day. She was pretty certain it wouldn't bring much respite.

Suddenly she felt white power approaching. It was terribly familiar and she turned in confusion, remarking a pair of riders coming up the road from the southwest. The power wafted toward her. Comprehension began, but surely she was wrong. The riders veered through the waking camp toward her and sudden excitement arose.

The riders were a man and a woman. The woman was small and dark, on a jet-black mare, and the man riding beside her on a huge gray charger was a golden Highlander. She had seen him before in her visions and the woman was unmistakable. “Allie!”

Allie leapt from her horse effortlessly and ran toward Brie, arms wide, wearing skinny jeans and a fur jacket. “Brie!”

Brie went into her arms and began to cry. She had never been happier to see anyone.

Allie, who was five feet tall on a really good day and maybe a hundred pounds when wet, held her as if she were a child. “It's all right. Royce and I are here, even if it took me an entire night to convince him to come. We will fix
everything!
”

Brie pulled back to look at her best friend, who was the most optimistic, unsinkable person she knew. Allie remained shockingly beautiful—more so than ever, Brie thought. “I prayed you would come. You heard me!”

Allie grinned. “When Claire told me you were here, I wanted to come right over, but Royce is holding a grudge against Aidan and we had to have it out. He can be the most stubborn, annoying, unreasonable man.”

Brie had a bad feeling the moment Allie said the word “grudge” that Aidan had done something pretty unforgivable. She glanced at Royce and her heart actually slammed. The man was a mass of popping muscles, and while gorgeous, he was so obviously a medieval warrior she almost couldn't believe he was Allie's soul mate. He looked as hard and intractable as Allie had claimed. But he was exactly as she had first seen him in her vision, when she had known he was to be crucial to Allie's fate. She smiled and took Allie's hand. “Well, well…well.”

Allie laughed, pleased. “Yeah, he's hot.” Royce gave his wife an annoyed look. “Hey, Mr. Medieval. Forgive me and come and meet my best friend in the world. You are way too old to sulk.”

Royce came over, looking really annoyed now. “Lady Brie.” He nodded at her. “I'm pleased t'make yer acquaintance.”

Brie decided he wasn't annoyed, he was royally pissed. She hoped he was mad at Allie and not Aidan. “Thank you for coming,” she said, meaning it. “We could use your help.”

His gaze was assessing, and he gave nothing away. It was impossible to tell if he'd help Aidan or not.

“We will help you, no matter what,” Allie said firmly, “or it's separate bedrooms for the next hundred years.”

Royce snorted and walked off.

Brie looked at Allie, who smiled saucily at her. “He's very angry with Aidan. I tried to heal him right after his son was murdered and he blew up at me. I know he didn't mean it, but he went berserk with his powers. If Royce hadn't appeared, I guess I could have been really hurt.”

Brie started. “Allie, wait a minute. Are you saying that you tried to heal Aidan sixty-six years ago?”

She grinned. “What year did you come from, Brie?”

Brie said slowly, “It's been a year, almost to the day, since you left us for good. Aidan took me back on September 21, 2008.”

Allie laughed. “Well, you haven't seen me in a year, but I haven't seen you in 72 years!”

“You look twenty-five,” Brie whispered, stunned. “You haven't aged a day!”

“My family tree isn't what we thought it was,” Allie said. She hugged Brie impulsively again. “My brother is The Black Macleod—a Master.”

Brie felt her brows soar. “Does this mean you're immortal?”

“I have no idea,” Allie said happily. Then she sobered, and her dark gaze was scrutinizing. “You look really good, actually. You seem to be in one piece, and you finally ditched those horrible eyeglasses. The pince-nez is sort of cute.”

Brie hesitated, thinking about everything that had happened in the past few days. If she looked okay, it was a miracle—or was it?

“Has Aidan hurt you?” Allie demanded, unsmiling. “Because you don't look hurt or feel hurt, not at all, but you
are
distressed.”

“No,” Brie said, shaking her head emphatically. “He would never hurt me. His bark is really loud, but he has no bite.”

“Really?” Allie's eyes were wide.

“And he can deny it, but we're friends.” Brie smiled grimly at her.

Allie stared. “Brie, he has no friends.”

“He has me. He needs me. Allie, he is in so much pain.”

Brie knew she was giving her feelings away and she blushed. But surely Allie would be supportive of her. They'd always been supportive of each other. Allie seized her hand.

“It's really easy to fall for these hunks,” she said softly. “And Aidan is one of the most beautiful men on this planet. He has tons of experience, too. He was the most eligible bachelor of medieval times. I mean, he outdid all the modern playboys I ever knew
combined
before he fell. Now, of course, he uses enchantment, not seduction. Has he enchanted you?”

“No. Allie, he isn't evil.”

Allie's gaze was searching. “Everyone says he takes power pretty much all the time.”